Lover Fallen
by BleachedMerc
Summary: It's a difficult time for the Bracers, but Joshua and Estelle manage to keep a tiny light burning strong.


You know what I hate? Well, lots of things. But today's "what does Deadpool hate?" comes courtesy of our good friends at Lady Footlocker. Like, seriously. Stop heckling me at the mall! I know these melons I'm smuggling look telling, but trust me, you dorky teen salivating at the very sight of me sashaying on through, you don't want to squeeze these puppies. You'll bruise my goods and then I'll have to steal some new ones!

Anyway, it was on one of _those_ kinds of days where I was doing some "shopping" that I bumped into this weird starry-eyed chick. Well, she looked like she had a twinkle in her eye or something, but it turned out to be a Twinkie so I backed away slowly. But she could sniff out the man meat under the prized cantaloupes I stole from Old Man Jenkins and galloped after me at breakneck speed. I did the only sensible thing I could do at the time and ducked into the nearest shop. Which was Lady Footlocker. Joy of joys. It was there that Timmy the Pizzaface tried to grope me. I couldn't tell if he was pining for romance or just genuinely hungry for melons. I mean, do they even feed those poor lost souls while they're hanging around all day playing with women's feet? That's gotta make a guy hungry. For something.

So there I was, stuck between a greasy kid and a drooling howler monkey, when I got the greatest idea ever. I grabbed the Twinkie and jerked that bad boy towards Timmy, figuring he could use a light snack. Wouldn't you know it? The damn thing felt superglued, so I sent everyone tumbling into a pile of discounted used shoes and my melons went rolling out across the floor. I tried to run after them, but something was holding me back. Both the wild woman and the pimpled out teen had grabbed me by either leg. Timmy was babbling something about being "lied to" by some "hooping gold burger" or whatever, and the woman was professing her undying love for me.

Let's get something straight, folks: I may be an adorable, roguish scamp but I am not a liar! Well, most of the time.

You're probably wondering right now if Joshua's the one with the pimples and Estelle's the one with the Twinkie. They're not, but we're coming up to them soon. I promise. Maybe. I sometimes lie.

Anyway, I managed to kick the love-starved teen off, but I couldn't shake off the bakery queen. So I just hauled her along with me as I bounded after those melons. When I finally managed to heave and ho my way to the plaza where they rolled underneath a bench, Pele jumped out of nowhere and practiced some volley shots with my prized melons. To the man's credit, he didn't break a single one. He really is a legend after my own heart. Le sigh~!

But he did make more work for me. It wasn't easy moving around with all that deadweight. And no, she wasn't really dead. Well, not yet anyway. I _did_ have plans for that and readied my katana at some point, but then her husband showed up and I really didn't need anymore witnesses. The two of them got into a shouting match, her still wrapped around my leg like one of those stuffed bears that clung to bedposts. So I plopped myself on the bench, pulled out my reading spectacles, and decided to read the funnies while they duked it out. Like all marriages, it ended in heartbreak and divorce. Luckily, I was certified by the state, so I was able to notarize the documents on the spot. Heh, saved them a trip to City Hall. Ayup, sometimes even 'ol 'Pool can be a hero, too!

At that point, some little girl with cheeks way too rosy to not be drug-induced skipped on over and said in her really-not-adorable squeaky voice: "Daddy, why is mommy hugging that man's leg? Should I hug your leg, too?" Like mother like daughter, I suppose. The little girl latched onto her dad, who wordlessly just started walking away with his daughter clinking to him like a three-toed sloth.

You'd think that woman would've lost steam at this point. You know, let go of me and take stock of her life? Contemplate and reflect over the damages this would do to her daughter? Let go of me? Ponder over what the rest of her life would mean without her family? And most importantly let go of me? You'd think that, but you'd be wrong. She clung to me even harder than before and started getting _very_ suggestive. Like Way-Too-Mature Audience suggestive. I'll leave that to your dirty imaginations. Where this story is concerned, I quickly pulled out my cellphone and called my bestie.

Within minutes, Cable had teleported into the mall.

"Dammit, Wade! I was in the middle of averting a nuclear holocaust!"

Ah, silly Cable. He's always had trouble with priorities. With all the suave and prestigiousness of a military genius, I explained to him the issue of national security threatening our precious way of life.

"You want me to free you from this woman's grasp?"

"Yes."

"Is this a joke?"

A joke! Why I never! When do I ever joke? Unbelievable! You'd think my bestie—of all people—would know me well enough to know I wasn't some crackpot of a joker!

"Honestly, Wade, this is the last time I'm coming when you phone me saying it's a 'Code Red Super Septuple Emergency'."

"I didn't say 'septuple'; I said 'octuple'."

"Whatever."

You'll have to excuse Cable. He's getting on in years. We can't all be young and lively like moi.

Anyway, Cable managed to jimmy the lady free from my pants. Just in the nick of time, too, because I had to use the little merc's room, hee. When I came back out with some toilet paper trailing behind me—thanks for not telling me, Cable!—I came back to find my bestie brainwashing the lady to fall in love with the next schlep to walk out of Lady Footlocker. Just so happened to be some guy with the surname Mansex or something else that was really stupid. The two fell in love right there and got married on the spot. Oh, yeah! I'm 2-for-2 in saving people a trip to City Hall! Whoo! Hero Deadpool rocks!

By the way. Cable? He's an _amazing_ best man. Even though he teleported out midway through the vows.

The two lovebirds went on to have two kids, Lily and Timothy. And yes, in case you're wondering, he was totally named after the Footlocker pervert.

"But what about Joshua and Estelle?" I hear you asking. Oh yeah, I forgot about them...

Well, funny story there, ha. That little girl pretending to be a sloth? Yeah, that was Estelle. She was clinging to her daddy Cassius's leg as he stormed out of the mall after divorcing Estelle's mom. So that makes Estelle the half-sister to Lily and Timothy.

As for Joshua, well, we all know his story. So why repeat it?

Fast forward maybe 16-19 years into the future, and we enter a tournament. But it's not just any tournament. Oh no! It's the tournament...of _love_. Both Estelle and Joshua competed in it. They gave it their all, but in the end, it wasn't enough. A heroic moose man came out of nowhere and sealed their fates forever. And after dying several times and walking around as undead corpses and then specks of ash, Joshua and Estelle are in a safe place now. Their skulls hold the candles that provide me the light to pen this marvelous memoir of mine. So thanks, Joshua and Estelle! You really are keeping these tiny flames a'burnin'! I mean, I could just go get one of those Yankee candles, but boy! Have you seen the price tags on those things? $40 for a candle? _A candle_? Come on! I could buy the whole Deadpool movie collection for that kind of scratch! I'll stick to the skulls that I pilfered from the graveyard outside my treehouse, _thank you very much_!

By the way, this story was co-authored by my bestie Cable and our mutual bestie Roo, who, like a pro, would only accept Pooh sticks as payment. Keep on rocking, guys!

The end.


End file.
